


Letting Go

by badgirlcarly



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Catharsis, Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking, Strapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgirlcarly/pseuds/badgirlcarly
Summary: Ray gets into a fight and Crow Horse teaches him a lesson.





	Letting Go

  
Ray held Crow Horse’s handkerchief to his split lip on the drive home. He’d expected to be yelled out the whole ride, but Crow Horse hadn’t said a word.

Once they were inside, Crow Horse said, even-like, “I want you to go get cleaned up. Take some time to settle yourself, and come back out here when you’re ready for your punishment.”

Ray nodded, and he obeyed. He shut himself inside the bedroom, cleaned the blood off his face in the bathroom sink. He was still pink-faced and breathing hard, so he sat himself down on the edge of the bed until his veins didn’t pump red hot anymore. Ray took a deep breath, and he stood up, and he walked back out into the living room. 

Crow Horse was watching him from the kitchen, leaned up against the icebox with a mostly empty Coke in his hand. Ray stopped when he felt Crow Horse’s eyes on him, just stood in the space between the kitchen and the living room and waited, uncertain.

“Thank you,” Ray said. “I mean—for giving me some time to collect myself.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

Crow Horse took the last swig of his soda, and put the bottle in the sink. He wiped the bottle’s moisture off his hands and onto the light denim of his jeans, and he walked up to Ray.

“Come on, if you’re coming,” he said, and Ray followed him into the living room.

Ray half sat, half leaned against the arm of the couch as Crow Horse scrutinized him.

“You can’t keep getting in fights like this, Ray,” Crow Horse said, but he didn’t sound angry, just matter of fact. “You gotta control your temper.”

Ray’s cheeks heated. “I don’t know how. Sometimes—sometimes I just can’t stop myself.”

Crow Horse nodded. “I know. I know.” He took in a deep breath, his eyes holding Ray, then released it. “Best take your pants down, bend over the arm of the couch.”

Ray nodded. He stood up, unbuttoned his jeans and started pulling them down past his knees. They got tangled around his calves, and he asked, “Can I just take them off?”

Crow Horse nodded. “Sure, honey. Why don’t you just strip, take everything off?”

Ray nodded. He pulled off his shoes and kicked off his pants and pulled his shirt off over his head. He pushed the pile of his discarded clothes behind the couch and bent over the arm, bare ass naked. Ray spread his legs and bowed his head and waited.

He was breathing shallow, which he didn’t realize until Crow Horse came up from behind him and rubbed the heel of his palm between Ray’s shoulders. Ray gasped, unprepared for this kind of touch, but he let his muscles relax as Crow Horse rubbed his back.

“Relax, honey,” Crow Horse said. “Just relax.”

Crow Horse rubbed Ray’s back until Ray was breathing normal. Then he stepped back, and Ray heard Crow Horse unbuckling his belt. Ray waited for the slap, but Crow Horse was just standing behind him, tapping the doubled over strap against his own palm.

“I know you usually try to be real good and real quiet when you’re whipped,” Crow Horse said. “But today I don’t want you to. When I hit you and it hurts, let yourself yell out.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Crow Horse said, “you got an awful lot bottled up inside you, and you need to get it out.”

Ray wasn’t quite sure what Crow Horse was getting at, but he nodded. “Okay,” he said.

Crow Horse’s hands were on him a moment, making sure Ray’s legs were spread proper and pushing him up over the arm of the couch a bit so his bare ass was propped up as high as it could be, ready to take its punishment. Then Crow Horse stood back, and Ray squeezed his eyes closed, and the belt landed squarely across the tenderest spot where Ray’s ass met his thighs, and Ray gritted his teeth and swallowed a groan. He took a few more slaps silently before he remembered what Crow Horse had said—to just let it out. Ray thought it was weak, childish—that’s why he always willed himself to be quiet and take it like a man—but Crow Horse had _told him_ to let himself howl, so Ray relaxed. Released it. The next time the belt smacked down, Ray stopped grinding down on his molars, stopped choking on a moan, and let it out. The noise was somewhere between a cry and an exhalation, a sharp _ah!_ As Crow Horse kept cracking the belt across Ray’s ass, Ray’s cries echoed behind the sharp noise of leather on flesh: _ahh! ohh! oww!_

It did feel better. The whipping still hurt, of course, but Ray had never realized how much effort he put into being stoic, how tight wound he got. And it opened up his head—he didn’t have to concentrate on being good and quiet during his punishment; he was free to just experience each slap of the belt against his ass, the flare of pain, the whistle of the strap cutting the air and the gravity of it falling. 

And then it was over. Ray slumped over the couch’s arm as Crow Horse fastened up his belt again. Crow Horse had left Ray’s backside real sore but not raw, and Ray moaned as the pain spread itself through his tissues and throbbed. 

Crow Horse made a quiet shushing sound, tickled his fingers across the short cropped hair at Ray’s nape.

“You okay?” he asked.

Ray tried to get his breath back. “Yeah,” he said shakily.

Crow Horse nodded. “You take a minute, get yourself ready. You got a long trip over my knee coming.”

Ray swallowed thickly, but he nodded. He took a second, then hauled himself to his feet. The pain in his ass and thighs flared as he stood, pinching the sore muscles and the tender skin.

Crow Horse sat on the couch, legs slightly open. He patted his knee, and Ray resolved himself and walked over to him, bent over Crow Horse’s lap. Crow Horse helped position him, Ray’s head down and his red butt up.

“Listen,” Crow Horse said, and his voice was still so gentle. “I want you to just try to relax and let yourself take it; don’t hold anything in. I promise, I ain’t gonna punish you for kicking or squirming or hollering, okay?

“Okay,” Ray said meekly. He hugged Crow Horse’s knee.

“I’m gonna start soft and slow,” Crow Horse said, “and then it’s gonna get real hard. It’s gonna go on for a long while, and it’s going to get a lot worse before it’s over.”

Ray whimpered. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to learn that sometimes things just happen, sometimes painful things, and you just gotta get through it.”

Crow Horse let that thought marinate a moment, then he raised his hard hand and smacked it against the curve of Ray’s sore backside. He started up, just as he’d promised, slow and not too hard, just enough to awaken the pain the belt had burned into Ray’s ass and thighs. Ray found himself swallowing a moan, then remembered that he was supposed to let it out, and he started up again just as he had with the belt, crying out _ahh!_ and _oww!_ when Crow Horse’s hand smacked against his sore butt. 

It was hard to let go. It was hard to just take it without mentally fighting it every step of the way. That was the lesson, Ray guessed. That sometimes there was nothing he could do; he just had to take it.

Crow Horse was spanking him harder and harder, the pain both sharp and deep—immediate and at the same time cumulative, the pain burrowing into his muscles like it belonged there. Ray felt himself clenching, and then he heard Crow Horse say, “Let it go, honey.”

Ray let out a deep breath, and the next time he filled his lungs, it came out as a yelp. His _ahhs!_ and _owws!_ became howls; Ray squirmed over Crow Horse’s lap, his legs kicking out. Crow Horse spanked harder, his hand iron and unpitying. Ray choked, whined, and then he was crying, tears bathing his cheeks, dripping down his nose and into his mouth as he let out cry after cry.

The tears stung Ray’s eyes, and he realized he was still holding back; he was still keeping things in. He let go; he kicked his legs hard, and he begged like a child: “Please stop, pleeeaaaase, I’m so sorry, I’ll be a good boy, I promise, please just stoooooooop!”

The spanking stopped. Ray just drooped over Crow Horse’s knee, completely expunged, empty of rage and pity and desperation and angst. 

“Stand up,” Crow Horse said. “Go ahead and rub.”

Ray stood, and his hands scrabbled over the hot, bruised flesh of his backside, trying to extinguish the flames of pain, trying to rub away the ache. He cried harder, bathing in the pain, carrying the foreign burden of a completely scrubbed conscience. 

Crow Horse stood up, came against him, folding his arms around Ray. Ray pushed himself hard into the embrace, and the last of his tears soaked into Crow Horse’s collar.

Crow Horse rubbed Ray’s back until Ray quieted. 

“We learn a good lesson?” he murmured against Ray’s ear.

Ray closed his eyes. He rested his head on Crow Horse’s shoulder. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

Crow Horse pressed a kiss to the top of Ray’s head, and Ray held on.  



End file.
